In the same room as before sat Layra, Sareth, Nira, Brann, Adam, Kosman, and Grzywacz.
Grzywacz looked around at those gathered, then spoke in a calm but tired voice:
"Nira and I visited a few smaller markets deeper into the residential part of the city. We managed to gather some supplies. Food, cans, dry goods. We took everything we could carry."
Nira nodded in confirmation.
Adam leaned forward.
"We, on the other hand... met an old man who had been hiding alone in a shop. At first, he attacked us, but we managed to talk and convince him that we weren't a threat—and that he should join us."
Grzywacz frowned.
"We haven't seen any other people in days. But that doesn't mean they aren't out there. What happened with you and Sareth proves it—and it's likely to happen more often. So the question is: what do we do when we encounter someone?"
Sareth picked up the topic immediately:
"Should we leave them? Force them to join? Accept everyone?"
A discussion broke out. Layra raised her voice:
"If we're too selective, we'll create a clique, not a community."
Brann muttered:
"And if we accept everyone, we'll run out of food quickly."
Nira added:
"More people also means more eyes and more information. Someone might know where to find supplies—or safer routes."
Silence fell for a moment as no one had a perfect solution. Then Kosman suddenly stood up.
"We can't let these people die. We'll encourage them to join us. It's not a perfect decision. But it's the right one," Kosman said firmly.
Grzywacz nodded heavily and spoke solemnly:
"We're human. It's our duty to help other humans."
The room fell silent. Slowly, everyone nodded.
Adam quickly added:
"In that case, we'll need more food, medicine, and space. We'll have to increase the number of expeditions to secure our future."
Layra looked at Adam.
"And for that, we need people willing to fight."
Adam smirked faintly.
"Maybe it'll go better than we expect. After what Sareth, the old man, and I did... it was quite a show. Tomorrow, a few volunteers might step forward."
Brann laughed.
"I think they already are. Ever since you got back, some folks in the mess hall have been looking at you with jealousy in their eyes."
Grzywacz nodded, but then looked at Layra with a slight furrow of his brows.
"What's this about a show?" he asked, clearly intrigued.
Layra smirked and replied briefly:
"Adam, Sareth, and our new recruit put on quite a performance. They killed zombies one after another, documented everything, and came back flaunting their points in front of everyone. Olwen was cracking jokes like a stand-up comedian, and then they ate the best meal in the mess hall in full view of the entire base. We'll see the effect of that tomorrow."
A small, involuntary smile appeared on Grzywacz's face.
"Clever trick," he muttered with a note of approval, then added:
"Tomorrow, we'll divide the volunteers into teams. Get them familiar with combat. I also want to see what ability they get after their first kill. That'll tell us a lot about each person's potential."
Nira and Layra exchanged glances and nodded in agreement.
The rest of the meeting focused on organizational details: rotation schedules, task assignments, watch duty charts.
The topic of lacking technical specialists also came up. Kosman sighed heavily:
"Most of us are humanities students or from non-technical fields. We don't have anyone who knows electricity, plumbing, or even how to build weapons. Even a door malfunction or water shortage could paralyze us."
"Maybe we should start training someone in the basics?" Nira suggested. "Even makeshift repairs are better than nothing."
"Or search the area for tools, workshops, schematics," Brann added. "Scrap gathering might be just as valuable as collecting food."
Another issue arose.
"What about trusting the newcomers?" Sareth asked seriously. "How do we know someone isn't spying, stealing, or working against us?"
Layra nodded.
"We might need to implement a probation period. New arrivals work under supervision for the first few days before they gain access to better resources. And no solo shifts."
Grzywacz thought for a moment, then nodded.
"Agreed. Let's build a team responsible for screening and integrating newcomers. We can't afford divisions—or naivete."
The final topic sparked mixed reactions. Adam brought up something he had noticed from his very first moment in the base:
"Some people... have shut down. They don't fight. Don't talk. They sleep all day or stare at walls. Some even stopped eating."
Kosman nodded.
"That's trauma. They haven't processed what's happened. But if we don't break through it, they'll become a burden—emotionally and practically."
"That's what the reward system is for," Layra said calmly. "It forces them to do at least basic tasks. Cooking, cleaning, helping the injured. Maybe, over time, that'll restore their sense of purpose. A sense of belonging."
"Everyone has to contribute," Grzywacz summarized. "Otherwise, the base will fall apart from within."
They also briefly discussed the need for first aid training. Layra added that Ilya and Morten, who had already shown medical knowledge and commitment, should handle this task. Everyone agreed it was a good solution.
As the meeting ended, the participants slowly began to disperse.
Adam stood and stretched, feeling the weight of the day on his shoulders. He made his way toward the room he had earned through Contribution Points. When he reached the door, he took out a metal key and slid it into the lock.
The door opened quietly. Inside, it was dark, with only a sliver of moonlight streaming through the window.
Adam stepped in and... froze.
Valeria was lying on the bed as if nothing were unusual.
Wearing nothing but a swimsuit. It was a one-piece, deeply cut suit in a shade of midnight blue, with delicate silver accents running along the sides, emphasizing her waist. The fabric shimmered subtly in the moonlight, clinging to her body like a second skin. High-cut thighs exposed her long legs, while a plunging neckline with gentle ruching highlighted her collarbones and a tasteful portion of her chest. Thin straps crossed over her back, where the material dipped low—nearly to her waist.
Valeria paid him no mind. She kicked her legs in the air, crossing them lazily as she clicked buttons on a console with evident focus. Her eyes were glued to the screen, fingers flying over the buttons like a seasoned gamer. Suddenly, she hissed in frustration.
"Damn it, died again... This game's insanely hard!"
Finally, her gaze lifted from the screen and landed on Adam. She grinned slyly, raising an eyebrow.
"I've been gone quite a while... So I thought I'd give you a nice show," she said playfully. "Like the view?"